14. A fantastic time
A fantastic time
A fter convincing himself Isolde would be fine with the old lady, Felix joined in the preparations for the celebration, glad for something mindless to do. They dragged tables around, built a firepit, and opened an enormous barrel of mead that turned out to be especially tasty.
When evening fell, Luella stayed in the cabin, claiming she did not want to draw any more attention from Elric or anyone who sympathized with him. Garren offered to stay behind with her, and told Felix and Leif in no uncertain terms not to get drunk, and to keep an eye on Isolde.
At the site of the festivities, they learned, to Felix’s chagrin, that a group including both Elric and Beorn had brought in not one but two deer, fat from a summer of plentiful grazing.
The meat roasted on large spits, and the victorious hunters were being celebrated.
The villagers gathered around an enormous bonfire, which had dozens of torches sticking out of it.
Children ran wild; families sat in groups and talked.
Long wooden tables were laden with bowls of fruit, nuts, bread, and mead.
Leif and Felix helped themselves to generous mugs of the stuff and found a bench to sit on .
Felix spotted Isolde on the other side of the fire with the elder and Asara, a small crowd of children gathered around them.
Garren was nowhere to be seen. Isolde was smiling at the little ones, her hair and eyes reflecting the firelight, making her glow.
When she moved her head to say something to Asara, the light shimmered on the ley marking on her neck.
It was extremely distracting. He wondered how far the patterns extended, and his mind wandered helplessly, imagining how they would trace the curves of her –
“– lucky they brought in those deer! It would have been a poor gathering if there was no fresh game,” Leif said next to him, pulling Felix out of his thoughts.
“Right.” Felix nodded stupidly, hoping Leif had not asked him anything else. He attempted to look at anything other than Isolde.
Leif nudged him. “Were you making eyes at my sister?”
“What? No.”
“Sure,” Leif said dryly. “That must be why she’s headed this way.”
Before Felix could reply, Asara slid onto the bench between them. “Good evening,” she greeted, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Asara,” Felix replied politely, noting Leif’s exaggerated eye-roll. He tried not to smile. “How are you enjoying the feast?”
“It’s much improved since you arrived,” she said, her large eyes roving over him.
“I need another drink,” Leif muttered, giving Felix a look that spoke volumes as he escaped into the crowd.
Across the fire, the elder had disappeared somewhere, her seat taken by none other than Beorn, the great and mighty hunter.
He was talking animatedly, and Isolde smiled at him. Smiled. At that idiot.
Felix ground his teeth.
Isolde’s head turned in his direction, and her eyes caught his for a brief moment before she hurriedly looked away again.
Asara laughed quietly. “My brother thinks you are very intriguing.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I do, too.”
Well, she was certainly not playing coy. Felix chuckled. “Do you? Why is that? ”
Across the campfire, Beorn was listening intently to something Isolde was telling him, his eyes never leaving her face.
“You’re clearly not in your element here, yet you’re still the most dangerous man around this fire. I like that.”
“Hmm, I find women are more often the dangerous ones,” Felix replied. Asara laughed.
Isolde caught his eye again, for the briefest moment.
“My people are usually wary of strangers, you know,” Asara said.
Felix turned to her. “You don’t seem to have any reservations.”
“Me? No, I can overlook a bit of prejudice… for a good cause.” Asara made a point of dragging her gaze down his body, then back up to his face with a wolfish smile.
Her boldness reminded him of Mia. He would have liked her, before…
Before what? From the corner of his eye, Felix saw Beorn take Isolde’s hand and bring it to his lips.
His grip on his mug tightened, bile rising in his throat.
Asara leaned in closer. “Felix?”
“What? Sorry,” he said. “I… was just thinking.”
Her lips curled in a teasing smile. “You’re very mysterious.”
He forced a small smile in return, then reached out and twirled one of her braids between his fingers. “You’re very persistent.”
She laughed, swatting his arm playfully.
Across the fire, Isolde rose abruptly from her seat. She smiled at Beorn but gestured for him to stay where he was. He hesitated before sitting down, and she walked off. Moments later, Beorn got up anyway, trailing after her.
Asara was leaning in close to Felix, whispering something in his ear, her breath on his neck, her fingers brushing his wrist. All he could see was Beorn’s back, retreating from the firelight, heading into the darkness of the village beyond.
An unpleasant feeling crawled down his spine, setting all his senses on edge.
He jumped up from the bench as if stung.
“Sorry, Asara,” he said, barely looking at her. “I have to go.” Walking as fast as he could without breaking into an outright sprint, he went after Beorn.
** *
Felix spotted them just as he rounded the corner into the lane leading to their guest cabin.
Beorn stood close to Isolde, holding her hand, leaning toward her.
Felix couldn’t hear what they were saying.
He stepped back and waited. If she were happy about this, he told himself, he would go back to the campfire.
He would make up some story. It would be fine.
Beorn was an idiot, but maybe Isolde liked idiots.
But Isolde did not seem happy. He watched her take a step backwards, removing her hand from Beorn’s grasp.
She headed towards the cabin. Beorn reached out and grabbed her hand again, spinning her back to face him.
Felix caught a flash of Isolde’s face in the moonlight.
Distress, possibly fear. He broke into a run.
Isolde was tugging against Beorn’s grip. “Beorn, let go,” Felix heard her say. The man stepped closer, ignoring her, his other hand reaching toward her shoulder. Isolde yanked back harder. Blue light gathered around her.
“Let me go!”
The air rippled, a wave of energy bursting outward. Felix staggered, nearly losing his footing, as the magic hurled Beorn backward, colliding heavily with the cliff wall before crumpling to the ground.
Everything was silent. Isolde stood frozen, staring at Beorn’s sprawled form. Felix shrugged off the aftereffects of the blast and approached him. The man’s body was awkwardly twisted, one leg bent at an unnatural angle against the wall.
Quiet footsteps followed behind. “Is he…?” Isolde said in a small voice.
Felix crouched down and inspected Beorn’s face. Blood was trickling from his nose, but he was breathing.
“He’s alive. Shame. Shall I finish him for you?” He drew his dagger.
“Felix, no!” She ran up to him and attempted to wrestle the blade from him. He quickly dropped it on the ground. “Damn it, Isa, did you want to cut your finger off? Don’t do that. ”
She was shaking, still clutching his arm.
Her hands were warm. She stared up at him for a heartbeat.
He twisted towards her, more out of instinct than anything else, but then she hurriedly let go and stepped back.
Isolde cleared her throat and looked down at Beorn’s unmoving body.
“He was… He did… I did not mean to do that! But…”
“He deserved it,” Felix supplied helpfully.
“Yes! He did!” She stomped her foot, actually stomped it. Felix could not hide a grin.
“What are you laughing at?” she snapped, rounding on him. “And why are you even here?”
Felix blinked. “Why am I…? Why do you think? I saw him follow you!”
“I handled it just fine!” she shot back, crossing her arms and glaring at him.
Felix looked at Beorn’s crumpled body. “You did, yeah. Well done. He won’t try that again anytime soon. Why am I getting yelled at for trying to make sure you were alright?”
“I didn’t need your help! Why don’t you go back to the campfire, since you were having such a fantastic time!”
He tilted his head and bit back a smirk. Was that… jealousy? Before he could say anything, Isolde turned on her heel and marched off toward the cabin, leaving him standing there.
“Noted,” he muttered to himself. He rubbed his face with both hands, then bent down to pick up his dagger. For the briefest moment, he considered stabbing Beorn with it, just because it was such an excellent opportunity.
“You’re lucky she got to you first,” he grumbled at the unconscious man instead.
“What in the Watcher’s name did you do now?” someone said behind him.
Felix spun to come face to face with Garren, sword in hand and a deeply disapproving scowl on his face.
“Believe it or not, but this was Isolde, not me,” he said with a sigh. “Where have you been?”
Garren didn’t answer but blinked, looked down at Beorn, then back up at Felix with narrowed eyes. “And you just happened to pass by…? ”
“Really?” Felix threw up his hands and scowled. He was not in the mood for a lecture from Garren. “Save it, Garren. I’m going to bed.” He sheathed his dagger, then walked off without another word.